simple

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simple

i lost myself in myself.

things were much simpler back then.

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A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

clarityandtruth’s Poems (59)

Title Comments
Title Comments
Today 0
kin 7. 0
kin 6. 0
kin 5. 0
kin 4. 0
kin 3. 0
kin 2. 0
kin. 1. 0
fortress. 0
courage. 0
spy 0
while (two) 0
while. (the fellsway) 0
loves 0
candy mountain. 0
have i? 0
art. 0
story. cliched. 0
right here, right now. 0
foreground 0
the fog. 0
shangri-la 0
friends 0
transcribe. 0
sensitive. 0
tonight. 0
heart 0
embellism 0
the difference. 0
the night (modern) 0
room. 0
scratch. 1
joy 1
catalyst 0
shovel. 0
lemictyl. 0
oak. 0
crossroads 0
memorial drive. 0
withdraw 0
pub grainery 0
the flight of apollo 0
norwood on a saturday 0
nashua 0
glue 0
absolute confusion 0
continuance 0
fear 0
(into) the night 0
aaron and eric 0
love.... is transferable 0
simple 0
dreams 1
dissension 0
lost hours 0
the sun and all its power 0
potions 0
cliche 0
comedy 0